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On Shore - Treeline

The dimly light shade of the thick under growth of the shore line birch grove was instantly bathed in a seething blinding light. Arches of lightning slammed into the trunk of a tree already damaged by weapons fire from both Autobot and airborne Decepticons guns. The birch ignited into flames as the light began to fade and the rend of subspace collapsed upon itself revealing four determined shadows.

As the flash faded, the four figures were forced to duck down as the roar of jet engines tore through the skies above. Soon a stream of spat fire erupted from the source. "Blitzwing." The barely restrained voice of antisipation spoke out as the Aerialbot pulled himself out from the brush.

Ultra Magnus pulled his rifle up from subspace and checked its power levels for the final time before turning to address his team. "Tonton, locate Rodimus. Soon as you find him transmit his coordinates... Do not engage if you can avoid it. Even before his upgrade Hot Rod was a formidable mechanism." The small jungle combat specialist nodded and transformed into his cybertronian CypherPrimate and disappeared into the canopy.

Bidder tore into the ground as was his customary method of intimidation, and sent shockwaves through the region as a minor earth quake. He then took hold of a pair of subspace rocket launchers and pulled them up as if rending them from the living rock. "What about me hoss. Got me some itchin triggers here that old Dora and Lorna need a scratchin."

"Colorful, why don't you tell all of the Decepticons we're here ready to kick their tail." Slingshot loaded an active clip into his neutronium rifle. "Think ya missed a sensor."

"Stow it." Magnus snapped before turning his attention to the large barrel shaped defender. "Locate First Aid."

The green mech's excitement subsided visibly. "What? I gotta Protosit?... Bah fine, but I better get in on the next one." The defensive specialist began a relatively quick sprint towards the signal of the Protectobot Medic.

Ultra Magnus now spared his attention to the waiting Aerialbot. From the backdrop he could spy continuous weapons fire raining down upon various positions in the combat zone. It would not be long before the humans spotted what was going on here, and when that happened, all hell would break loose. "Slingshot, establish air superiority and give what support you can to Blades."

"Support Blades? Why would I want to support that bag of energon exhaust?"

"Because I am ordering you to. I don't care about your petty squabble right now Slingshot. Just plow the road so we can work." Magnus's voice was stern yet not overly bearing. The Aerialbot simply signed and bowed his head before lifting it up into a warrior's smirk of satisfaction. With a leap into the air, Magnus watched the sharpshooter pull his arms to his sides and morph into a terrain fighter alternative form.

Magnus immediately stepped forward from the underbrush. His sensors splayed wide to take in all of the movements of the actors on the board. Noting that Warpath's signal was no longer moving, though Hardhead was present perhaps giving him some covering fire. But what did not make sense to his sensors was when Kup's signal and Hot Spot's began a violent attack run on the position that was Hardhead.

So Kup's report was correct, Autobots were attacking their comrades in arms. This was almost unheard of, though not unknown. Historically there were traitors that had come and gone on both sides of this protracted war. But the likes of Hardhead going off the deep end as Kup described, that was not so common.

Magnus agreed this had to be brought to a close immediately. Pushing a few branches clear of his optics, he took note of the sprawled battlefiend. And at the center of the chaos was the deformed image of Hot Rod who appeared to be hyped up on Energon X. The Autobot Commander stepped into the clearing, his weapon adjacent with the ground, though his missiles at the ready. "RODIMUS!" He called out, exposed to the weapons of both sides though knowing his armor was enough to protect him until he was able to retaliate. He took note of a swirling dark energy that spiralled unseen, it was just that sort of feeling he could not articulate. His optics locked with the twisted prime and his new wing mech. No, this was something entirely beyond the pale.

Skies Above

Slingshot spun into the air with a joyful glee. Nothing like being free to test the winds and spread his wings. Well maybe scraping a few Decepticon fliers was better, but not by much. Immediately he switched his weapons over to active and his sensors were patched into the Autobot Combat network. Within astro seconds he was able to actively ping three Decepticons.

Astrotrain and Blitzwing were the two closest targets with Vortex further down the shoreline evading weapons fire from the ground. Let that braggart Blades deal with the lone Combaticon, Slingshot pivoted his angle and activated his afterburners launching himself towards the two triple changers.

Loading his mortar launchers with proximity shells, Slingshot painted the two targets. He closed the distance rapidly. "Hello Decepticreeps. You two need to be taught a lesson about a fair tactical advantage." With that he unleashed a quartet of proximity mortars towards the triple changers, a pair each. They would detonate at a set distance, spraying shrapnel and chemical conflagrations.

On Shore

Once Onslaught's internal targeting sequencers had begin receiving information from Vortex regarding Autobot positions, such as that of Hardehead, the Combaticon Commander transformed once more and rolled the rest of the way on to shore before letting loose with an initial volley of rockets. They shrieked in to the sky, leaving trails of gray fumes in their wake as more field intel fed itself to him.

It was Oil Slick's report in particular that had caught his interest and made him all the more eager to get to his position so that he could see what he was seeing. Slamming down on his accelerators, the large missile truck lumbered forward through the shallows until he could satisfactorily close the distance between himself and Oil Slick, who his scanners indicated was not far away.

One part of Oil Slick's report had caught him by such surprise that he almost made the Decepticon chemist repeat what he had said. He didn't, though, as the initial transmission had come through quite clear--even if he couldn't make strategic sense of it at the moment.

Autobots attacking...Autobots? What in the name of Primus? he thought as he rolled forward. Why were Autobots attacking other Autobots? The reported accounts of that happening were so infrequent that Onslaught could count the number of times he had seen such a report on one actuator. Had internal strife spread to their ranks too? It was almost too good to be true.

Whatever had caused the split, Onslaught would be damned if he was not going to take advantage of it, just as the Autobots would inevitably try with the Decepticons own unstable leadership situation.

Transforming again, Onslaught trudged the rest of the way through the shallows to Oil Slick's position, coming up alongside the Decepticon as he surveyed the battlefield. As he looked up, he saw that Decepticon signatures were not the only things filling the skies.

Unacceptable.

"Brawl, one volley into the air then advance on Autobot ground positions. The skies are ours," Onslaught ordered, matter-of-factly, as his own mortar cannons adjusted their positioning. His optics flickered as a red and white Autobot streaked by. Protectobots and Aerialbots, from the looks of it. No matter. Until he had a better understanding of why the Autobots were attacking one another, they were all fair game.

Dropping to one knee for better stabilization, Onslaught let off a pair of thunderous rounds from the mortar cannons near his shoulder units.

___

Bottom of the Yellow Sea--Construction Site

Scavenger chuckled nervously at Hook's agitated response. It was better than flat out derision. But he took the hint clearly and did not want to get in he or Scrapper's way any more than he had to.

"Right. Very true. Um, well, I'm gonna go see where else I can lend a hand in getting this place up to snuff, alright guys?"

Scavenger figured the other two would be busy enough with Devastator. The less they had to focus on their new base of operations, the better off they all would be. Eventually.
___

Mixmaster looked over at Hook with a knocking smirk on his face before resting his head back fully in to the cranial covering that was part of the chemical engineer's physical design and let out a relaxed sigh.

"Got it, got it, got it," Mixmaster said excitedly, before visually beginning to calm himself down and offlining his optics and allowing himself to go into blissful semi-stasis while the other two did their work.

On Shore

Drag Strip appeared alongside Rodimus, having been teleported from the remains of the sunken Ultrax to just beyond the shoreline of South Korea. From atop the rocky outcropping, the former Stunticon witnessed the battle raging below between the Autobots, Decepticons and the other heralds. Of course, the pathetic Cybertronians did not know or understand the super-powered mechs they were now facing. To them Hardhead, Darkride and Hex were simply traitors to the causes that they once represented. Even Rodimus would be branded as such, and Motormaster would eventually come looking for his wayward Stunticon. None of that mattered now as the filthy Cybertronian scourge would soon comprehend their ultimate fate, but whether or not they would accept it was another matter entirely.

Feeling the gentle touch of his new master, Drag Strip looked up at Rodimus and nodded. “Understood, my lord.” Even though he was already beside the flame-covered mech, the yellow herald heard the same voice fill his cranial unit as the others. A broad smile creased his visage as Drag watched his new comrades respond to their master’s call and begin moving towards them. It was then that Ultra Magnus could be seen and heard calling out Rodimus Prime’s name from the beach below. “Oh look, master, the City Commander, himself, has arrived and wants to have a word with you. He doesn’t look too happy, either. I think you may have ticked him off. Heh heh.”
_________

When the voice of Rodimus Prime filled his processor, Hardhead immediately ceased firing on the advancing Kup, his shatterblasters growing silent as more explosions erupted all around him, this time from Onslaught, who had just emerged from the sea, itself. As much as the green herald would have liked to engage both warriors in combat simultaneously, the call of his master was one that he could not simply ignore. Thus, the war veteran holstered his weapons and gave his opponents a half hearted salute.

“Another time, perhaps,” Hardhead stated as he took off running towards the rocky outcropping that overlooked the battlefield. As he reached the tree line, the green soldier transformed into his armored vehicle mode and barreled through the foliage until he had emerged on the opposite side. Any Autobots still hiding within the thicket that were dumb enough to get in his way would have been easily run over or knocked aside like a simple drone.

Reaching the rocky outcropping, Hardhead returned to robot mode and easily climbed up on top where Rodimus and Drag Strip were waiting. “I am here as you command, my master,” the green herald stated before giving the Prime a curt bow and then regarding the former Stunticon with a nod. “Welcome aboard.”

On Shore - Abandoned Storage Cave

The brutal beating Ricochet had endured left his faceplate and upper torso severely damaged. He could barely see through his cracked visor as more energon began to flow from his smashed faceplate, leaving a gory trail on the rocky ground beneath him. Darkride seemed to revel in the carnage, but it was just not enough. The supernatural interrogator wanted to hear the gunner scream, as well, whispering that desire into the Autobot’s audio receptor before lifting the defeated mech’s chin off of the cave floor and staring directly into his impaired optics.

“Sorry....to....disappoint you,” Ricochet hissed, his voice garbled as energon welled up in his throat. “I scream.... for no one!” The black and gold mech was defiant to the very end, but that end never materialized. Instead, Darkride informed him that a stay of execution had been granted before patting the gunner on top of the cranium and ripping his shoulder-mounted cannon off of the marksman’s beaten body. Sparks flew from the Autobot’s shoulder as the torturer used the cannon to blast his way out of the cave, leaving his prey behind in a barely functional state.

Ricochet slowly rolled over onto his back, coughing up energon as he did so. Darkride was now gone as light from the outside world shined into the cavern, illuminating the grisly scene. At least now whomever came to rescue the maligned gunner would have no problem getting to him, if anyone truly cared enough to save his spark, of course. Thankfully, stasis had not yet overtaken the black and gold mech, but he also had no idea how much longer he had since his malfunctioning HUD was of no use to him. All Ricochet could do was wait to either be saved or be left to die in this death trap of his own making.

Shoreline

>>"The bowl head looks none the worse to wear boss! Swindle can make a damage assessment! Me? I am gonna bring the pain to the Autobots!"<< Brawl announced over the Combaticon tactical comm-channel after receiving Onslaught's newest set of orders for he had already moved on. The Combaticon bruiser had reached the Decepticon chemist Onslaught had commanded him and Swindle to secure somewhat earlier and had come into conclusion that while damaged, Oil Slick was still fit enough to fight.

Well, at least that was Brawl's opinion on the matter. Hole or three through his armor had the tendency just to slow him down - but to stop him? That required far more effort. All Combaticons could handle pain and that was what Brawl was used to. If Oil Slick was going to let a wound to stop him - well, he wasn't going to babysit some crybaby when there was a battle to be fought. Of course, so far Oil Slick had seemed to be coping with his injury just fine.

Nevertheless, when Onslaught reached Oil Slick and Swindle, Brawl had already advanced out of the sea and was firing blast after blast of electrons towards Blades' position in the sky with his electron gun. "Haha! Time to die Autobozo! You wanna brawl with Brawl?! C'mon! Reaper's is coming for you!"

Knowing full well that Vortex was already in the air and likely waiting for his chance to humiliate Blades, Brawl continued to pay heed to Onslaught's instructions for now. As the ground began getting more solid under his feet, Brawl transformed into his tank mode which allowed him to access his all weapon systems and began shuffling through the targeting data Vortex was providing to him and the other Combaticons. Two forms in particular captured his attention - Hardhead and Kup. The veteran warrior was already retreating from the battlefield for some reason and while blasting someone in the back was not beyond Brawl, he really didn't feel bothering with it. Now Kup on the other hand had been left standing in the open due to Hardhead's hasty retreat - and well, Brawl wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"Time to go old timer! To the scrapyard you belong!" Brawl boomed as he fired an explosive shell at Kup's position.

On Shore

Kup transformed as Hardhead returned fire at him. He had hoped that his shots would at least distract him a bit but that didn’t seem to be the case. The old warrior swerved and braked to help avoid the incoming fire. He still took a couple of close calls, adding a few more dents, tears and scratches to his armor but he was made of pretty stern stuff himself. As the Autobot closed in he transformed back to his robot mode, ready to go hand to hand with Hardhead if necessary.

The old timer was surprised to see the other Autobot turn tail and run off towards Hot Rod who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. Kup briefly considered firing on him but the seeing Warpath’s fallen form and receiving the signal from First Aid kept him focused on recovering the wounded. He grabbed the tankformer and heaved him over one shoulder with a grunt. Next time he was going to let someone else recover the heaviest of the wounded.

Kup began jogging back towards the tree line, his already slow gait reduced further by the weight and awkwardness of Warpath’s body. An explosion tore into the ground directly behind them. The heat of the blast scorched Kup’s back and sent both of them hurtling forward, slamming into the ground. The old warhorse pulled himself up to his knees with a grunt, hefting his musket once again. “I’m getting to old for this slag,” he muttered to himself as he returned fire on Brawl.

>>”Autobots, I’ve got a wounded Warpath and I’m heading to the forest but I’ve got Decepticon problems coming from the water. Could use some covering fire to help me make it the rest of the way.”<<

*

Hot Spot nearly plowed through a smaller Decepticon that emerged from the explosion at the mouth of the cave. He thought he heard a snarl as the Con deftly dodged around him, darting off towards the beach. The Protectobot continued forward though, knowing that saving a downed comrade was more important then shooting down a random Decepticon.

The Protectobot leader transformed and jogged into the cave. It didn’t take long to find Ricochet as the sparks and crackles from his damaged form quickly gave away his position. Hot Spot frowned as he saw the damage, but quickly covered it with a confident expression. The other Autobot was in bad shape, but he had seen First Aid patch up worse.

“Alright Ricochet, its Hot Spot. I’m here to get you out of here.” He carefully scooped up the wounded Autobot in his arms. “The fighting is still going on so it might be a bumpy trip, but I’ll get you out of here. First Aid will have you patched up in no time.” He hoped his tone was reassuring as he carefully walked out of the cave and began the long jog back to the line of trees.

*

Ironhide saw that his liquid nitrogen did the trick once again as Hex froze up, putting a halt to the fight. The warrior didn’t want to wait around to see if he would break out. He grabbed a hold of Saferoute’s hand and began pulling her away. “C’mon, its time to get the slag out of here!” He sincerely hoped that she would just come along as he was in no mood to carry her.

The Autobot turned to see Kup hurtled through the air by an explosion. He quickly glanced towards the sea to see Brawl emerging from the waves. “Awww slag, why can’t it ever be easy?” He drew his laser rifle and began firing at the Combaticon even as he retreated back to the trees. He glanced over at Saferoute. “If you still got a workin’ gun, I suggest ya use it so we can all get the slag out of here in the fewest pieces possible.”

*

While Oil Slick did not show it he did feel some relief at the arrival of Onslaught. While he was quite capable of fighting battles more sophisticated tactics were not his specialty. In addition he lacked the long range artillery that the Combaticons had. Now he had the luxury of waiting while they softened up the Autobots so he could move in closer to deliver a decisive strike.

*

Swindle finally joined Onslaught and Brawl, poking his head just above the surface of the water to take in the battle in front of him. It certainly was a chaotic scene with Bots and Cons fighting in the air and land. Fortunately the sea was still relatively peaceful, well, if you excluded Brawl and Onslaught firing artillery from it. Really among the Combaticons that seemed to be about as peaceful as it got.

From the looks of things some of the Autobots were retreating with wounded while some others were gathering up. The arms dealer wasn’t particularly interested in the non-wounded Bots. Injured Bots though, they could always be good for salvage, either directly or indirectly from parts they lost while retreating. Either way he needed to slow or stop their retreat. He brought his scatter blaster up and began firing on Saferoute and Kup, knowing that with his gun’s scatter blast pattern he had the best shot of hitting both of them as opposed to any other Autobots.

*

Bottom of the Yellow Sea - Construction Site

Hook just waved his hand at Scavenger as he went to work on Mixmaster. “Yes, fine, whatever, just stay out of the way.” The surgical engineer quickly went to work on the Constructicon chemist. He carefully removed his chest plate and quickly began his work on his internal parts. The operation was still a delicate one, but the experience in Scavenger allowed it to go quicker and more smoothly. Once the adjustments were made to his internal structure were complete he moved to the more sophisticated task of adjusting his nervous systems. Soon the outside world was completely tuned out as he worked on bringing another piece of Devestator to life.

Skies above the Shoreline

There was no time to hang around to see if his rockets actually hit home, or if they even missed Astrotrain and Blitzwing completely. Instead Blades had to take evasive maneuvers in order to avoid a blast of electrons which appeared to originate from the sea…or was that…Brawl?

Luckily for the Autobot aerialist he was able to dodge the fire and throw a few witty barbs right back at the Combaticon bruiser.

“Is that all you got?! You couldn’t hit an asteroid even if it had a target painted on it!”

To Blade’s surprise Brawl didn’t want to stick around and play 'who could kill who first'…instead he took to locating another target…namely Kup who had been engaged in a fight with Hardhead. The old timer had then disengaged the warrior and set off to retrieve Warpath’s body. Unfortunately, Kup didn’t make it into the treeline…the shell Brawl had fired exploded behind the ‘Bot sending him and the headless body hurtling forward into the air. The Protectobot flier let out an irritated growl before he turned toward the Combaticon and let loose several rockets.

>>”Kup! I’ll try to keep your little groupie at bay!”<<

On Shore – Treeline

With his teammates rather engaged in holding any potential threats at bay, First Aid continued his work on sealing off some of the larger lines that had been opened when Warpath’s cranium was taken from his body. He was nearly done when a series of bullets blew past his position causing him to drop to his knees and double over concealing his friend’s head beneath his body so as to protect it from any more damage.

When the coast was clear and he was sure it was safe to sit back up, First Aid took a quick glance toward Groove to ensure that the scout was still functional. From his position it looked as though the other Protectobot had made it through that last barrage without any problems.

As jumpy as First Aid was he was more so when he heard the sound of someone approaching from behind his location. The doctor quickly drew his photon pistol and pointed it toward the dense brush that was at his back. Finger on the trigger First Aid called back into the wooded area. Unfortunately, there was no way for him to know that Ultra Magnus had shown up and sent Bidder out to locate him.

“Who…who’s there? Don’t come any closer!”
____

From his makeshift perch overlooking the battle scene before him, Rodimus smiled. Such carnage. Such…confusion. It was enough to draw a low chuckle from the re-made mech. Everything was falling into place…just as his Master had predicted. It was only a matter of time until all would be ready.

Rodimus’ musings were interrupted when he heard from across the din of weapons fire his taken name being called out and it was bellowed from none other than Ultra Magnus himself. So, the Autobots saw fit to send their peacekeeping agent. Pitiful.

“Yes, Drag Strip I see him.”

While the Prime kept his optics trained on the blue and white Autobot his remaining three Heralds returned to his side. The first to arrive was his warrior. As expected Hardhead offered a bow before taking his place at his Master’s right side. Hardhead’s arrival was followed closely by Hex. Upon the younger mech’s appearance Rodimus broke off his gaze of the City Commander and focused on the new arrival. The scout took his place directly in front of his Master. And from the right of the outcropping Darkride emerged and quickly took his own position to Rodimus’ left next to Drag Strip.

With all of his Heralds finally at his side Rodimus regarded the Cybertronians engaged below. The Prime then placed both hands gently on Hex’s shoulders and caught Magnus’ gaze once more.

“You’re too late, Ultra Magnus! I’ve already won!”

Rodimus flashed the Autobot a smile before he gave a slight squeeze to his young Herald’s shoulders. Without a word Hex stepped forward giving his master some room. Just behind the silver scout Rodimus brought both arms up and tossed his head back as his entire body was engulfed in flames.

The swirling inferno that had consumed the Prime obscured his form from the sight of all those present and when the flames began to die down and Rodimus’ physical form came into focus it was clear that he had changed. He had grown taller. His arms and legs had lengthened and thinned. His hands ended in claws rather than well defined servos. And fire from every transform seem and expansion gap. He still retained some of the features that belonged to Rodimus but he was no longer that mech.

Rodimus was something else.

He lowered his arms and placed them back upon Hex’s shoulders before slowly lowering his head. The creature cast his burning gaze on his gathered brood regarding each one before he turned his attention to those below.

“Your kind is a disease in this Universe that must be eradicated! You deserve nothing less than pain and torture!”

Darkride took a quick glance up at his Master who offered a knowing glance and a slight nod. He calmly raised a hand from his young Herald’s shoulder and extended a sharp claw in the gathered Cybertronians’ direction.

“Once I was revered among your kind! I stood over even the greatest Cybertroninas! Then I was cast out for my beliefs! They feared my knowledge and power! Since that day and forever more I am now known as The Fallen!”

Skies above

The inital burst of small arms fire coming from Groove pelted Vortex's undercaridge with a stinging ferocity, and though the Combaticon's armor was thick enough to absorb the blasts, whatever Groove hoped to accomplish had been done. The Decepticon copter was forced to bank hard right and readjust his position. His sensors trained on the source of the shots as he refocused his link with the others on to the patch where the most activity was taking place.

"Onslaught, got some creepy news for you. It would appear that our good friend Ultra Magnus has decided to come out of the woodwork, so to speak. I am sending you artillery coordinates for his position, as well as the..." Vortex paused as a second volley of shots came from the Protectobot Scout. "Oh this won't do at all."

Vortex flipped over on his axis and brought his rotors down slightly. He kicked in his overdrive and began concentrating the airstream surrounding him. Within moments a funnel of air was launched towards the ground and Groove. A tornado that would wipe clean the region, at least that was the hope. He added a few bursts from the modified Vulcan Cannon that came standard with his new form, in order to insure that Groove would be forced along the path of his deadly storm.

A new signal pinged onto Vortex's sensors as he continued to coral the smaller Autobot Cycle. It was immediately recognized, catagorized and filed. "Drag Strip, here?"

Vortex stopped his retaliation briefly to adjust his focus on Ultra Magnus's position. He narrowed the bandwidth and brought everything into high resolution. The interrogator directly linked with the other combaticons and transmitted the visuals, Drag Strip holding hands with some sort of mutanted freak of a mech that bore an eerie glow about it. "What in the name of Megatronus is going on down there?"

Treeline

Ultra Magnus shielded his optical sensors, as the one impersonating Hot Rod exploded into flames. It was sheer brilliance that not even his polarizing features could compensate for. Even with the elevated illumination, the Autobot commander refused to turn away. Something familiar was happening, and he would be damned if he did not record what he could for postarity, and perhaps a way to reverse the effects should the time come.

Once the intense flames died down, Magnus was able to lower his visual shield and gaze upon the magnificent horror that had replaced his former comrade in arms. "No." It was a terrible sight to hold, and Magnus could feel his energon run slightly chilled.

"Cast out for trying to usurp the order that had been established by your brethren." He spat back as he leveled his weapon on the vile shadow before him. He knew the legends, a slighted Prime once held to the highest esteam who tried to slaughter his brothers and sister in order to reign supreme. Of course those were legends, much as Liege Maximo was only a legend. Sentinel Prime nor Zeta Prime, is prior mentors had ever given much stock in such tales.

Behind the twisted frame of metal and darkness, a small figure lept from a birch tree limb down to a small carbon scarred boulder. It transformed from its Cyber Primate alternative form with two short cutting blades cripped in each dexterious hand. Magnus registered the movement and calculated the risks and rewards of keeping this twisted monster focused solely on him. To give Tonton the opening he required to end this engagement before it spiraled out of hand even further, it was a necessary calculation Magnus had to make.

Magnus straightened his resolve and faced down the Fallen One. His first instinct was to unleash a hellstorm of firepower down upon their heads, but he was no longer a simple field commander. He had to do what was best for those under his command, he had to act like the Primes, Maximus and his brother Optimus. He had to offer Diplomacy before battle, it was a door that needed to be explored. And if it did not work, he always had the option of scorching the the very earth they stood on. "The only disease I register here, is the ones infesting good Autobots and Cybertronians. Surrender now and we can help you solve your grievences. We can work to parlay this madness."

He gave a few moments for the mad transformer to consider the new option. He figured that there was no accepting a truce after going through the trouble he had in order to secure whatever he was securing. Followers, corrupted or willing, Magnus knew this was not going to be the end of it. But he needed to try, that was what Optimus would do.

Of course when the offer was inevitably rejected, Magnus transmitted a silent message to Tonton as he crept ever closer to his prey. As soon as it was rejected, attack and disable. Killing the Fallen right now would only result in two fatalities. Hot Rod had to be rescued, where ever he was.

Medical Station

Bidder lumbered through a beach tree, shards of it splintering and raining down along his path as he pushed further into the grove of trees. His two rocket launchers, one in each hand, were his boxing fists as he pummeled yet another organic tree. "Stupid biologic creatures. If they are the dominant forms of life on this planet, the cons can have it."

He finally pushed his way through the tree grove, leaving a path of broken branches, splintered trunks and tree stumps in his wake. "Oops," was his only response as he retracted his launchers to rub the back of his head. His optics pivoted slightly to catch the form of his target quivering with... whatever emotion things quivered with. Bidder knew of only one emotion and it was hardwired into him, aggression.

"So you're the protoform that needs to be sat on?" He addressed First Aid with a semi genuine note of contempt. He wanted to be on the front lines, but Magnus had sent him here. "Alright Medic, you and I are goin' to be pallies, got that? You do you job and I'll see no harm comes to ya. Capiche?"

Skies

Artillery whistled past him even as he cut his own path through the skies. Astrotrain was not exactly as maneuverable as a Seeker or an Aerialbot, but he could get around. His function was transportation, not dogfighting.

Blitzwing's question gave him only a moment's pause.

>>"They've got to. I mean, right? Why else would they be here?"<< Astrotrain transmitted back. This was war. One side took plundered the other side's resources. That's how it always worked. Eventually one side would run out and the war would end. That was how Astrotrain figured it, anyway.

However, the triple-changer's figuring had also caused him to become a little too distracted. The moment's pause in shifting Astrotrain's focus was enough to get him in trouble.

It was a pair of proximity mortars detonating far too close for Astrotrain's comfort that had eventually done some real damage. One had explored just off his port side, causing him to jostle around a little in the air. The second, however, had collided with one of his wing units, decimating a portion of it and sending flames licking across that entire portion of his body.

>>"I'm goin' down, Blitz!"<< Astrotrain commed off, as the rapidly spreading inferno on his left side continued to grow in intensity even as he lost his ability to stabilize in the air. At least in this mode. He started to transform, hoping to autocorrect for some of the damage that he had sustained, but it was too late. The triple-changer crashed into the mushy, beachy earth below and skidded several hundred feet before coming to a stop.

Astrotrain pulled his head up from the muddy shoreline, his optics flickering intermittently beneath the muck.

"Just...great."

On Shore- Treeline

Groove watched as his shots hit Vortex, which did little to harm the interrogator. Groove wasn't disappointed though, as the Decepticon chopper turned toward him, just as he had hoped.

There we go, the scout thought as he quickly transformed to his motorcycle mode and started driving away through the forest, Can't give Onslaught or Brawl our coordinates if you're chasing after me.

Thanks to his manueverable motorcycle mode, Groove was able to bob and weave through the foliage faster than most Autobots on land- which didn't mean much when being chased by a Decepticon in the sky.

The wind's picking up- I know what that means!

Groove could feel light debris start to hit him from all directions, his sensors picking up Vortex above him- and a spinning funnel of high winds in between the two heading in his direction. Groove remained focused on the narrow path ahead, as it was his only chance.

Need to hurry, can't stop movi- OH SLAG!

Ahead of Groove came several shots from Vortex's vulcan cannon, closing in on the scout. Groove had no choice but to make a sudden stop to avoid getting hit, just managing not to flip his alternate mode into the air. But by dodging a bullet and stopping, even if only for a second, Groove had lost any slim chance he had of outrunning the incoming tornado.

"Oh no!", he shouted as he felt the strong winds start to move him. He transformed back to his robot mode, hoping that his larger, heavier form would keep him from being taken. For an astrosecond he managed to stay on the ground, but the swirling winds grew stronger, pulling him off the ground as he made a futile attempt to dig his digits in to keep from going further upward, but all he got were hands full of dirt as the tornado brought him airborne.

Groove could do nothing but spin violently within the cyclone as he was repeatedly being pelted by rocks and trees that had also been picked up by the winds. Between the constant hits by debris and the powerful winds moving him, all of Groove's sensors were rendered useless.

Then just as suddenly as it started, it seemed to stop. The noise of the howling winds and the debris that had clouded his optics were gone, as Groove felt himself being thrown from the tornado high into the air. As Groove felt his upward momentum start to slow, seeing the battlefield far below him, he regained enough awareness to open an emergency comm-line.

>>BLADES-ANYONE-HELP!<<, was all he sent as he felt gravity start to take hold.

On Shore

Saferoute fell on her back, expecting Hex to finally reach her and rip the wires out of her neck. Instead of feeling his teeth dig into her armor, though, she watched the young mech freeze in place. She breathed a quick sigh of relief, but was suddenly startled by the sight of a still-frozen Hex managing to drag his frozen body toward her.

She said nothing, her jaw simply hanging wide open as she backed away from him as best he could, ignoring the slight pain she felt as her burned aft dragged on the ground. Then to her confused, but thankful astonishment, the possessed scout halted his chase. She could only sit and stare as he shredded away the ice that had surrounded his legs in a matter of minutes, then gave her one last menacing smile before he left.

That.... that was no mech..... what..... what happened? was all she could think as she sat in a daze. It wasn't until Ironhide offered a hand up that she came back to the real world.

"Huh?", she said confused as she took the red mech's hand and got to her feet, "Oh, uh right, yeah."

Looking around the ground she spotted her laser rifle a few yards away. After Ironhide's suggestion she hurried over and picked it up, then followed toward the treeline. After receiving a request from Kup for covering fire, she started to take aim at Brawl when her optics picked up a strange light from a distance. As she tried to determine what it was, she felt sudden sharp pain in several parts of her body. She had failed to notice Swindle firing at her, and his scatter shots had managed to hit her.

"RRRRGH", she grunted as she went to her knees in pain, assessing the damage brought on by the weapons dealer. A couple of hits to her right arm, one in her left leg, another in her lower torso that hadn't completely pierced the armor, but had caused a small leak of energon, and a couple that just grazed her shoulder.

"Slaggit.", she grumbled as she grit her teeth, shook her head and got back on her feet, "Not going down yet! Not yet!"

Continuing her backward progress toward the treeline, Saferoute took careful aim with her rifle and fired at Swindle.

Skies

The appearance of Blades hovering in the sky came as no surprise. The appearance of Blades hovering in the sky with the intention of destroying Blitzwing came as no surprise. The appearance of Blades hovering in the sky with the intention of destroying Blitzwing via the employment of his unique rockets came as no surprise.

The sudden arrival of that tin foil plane, Slingshot, did.

No sooner had Blitzwing eluded certain critical damage the Protectobot's rocket had to offer him than this lone Aerialbot decided to show up—seemingly out of nowhere—determined to clip his wings and watch him drop like a stone, straight out of the sky.

Evading Blades's smart rocket had been comprised mostly of a miracle and luck, with a hint of finesse thrown in to complete his concoction of survival. But Blitzwing would be unable to repeat his Getaway-like performance against Slingshot, who now assumed Blades's place in this aerial conflict while the Protectobot tended to another portion of the battle.

Having fought the Aerialbots on several occasions, he knew of the capabilities they possessed—and in particular, the outstanding sharpshooting skills Slingshot flaunted, much as it galled him to admit. On further consideration, however, the pipsqueak's arsenal packed a punch, too, forcing Blitzwing to treat this one with respect, and as a dangerous foe. That detail by itself, even though only given a moment's regard, immediately promoted Blitzwing's irritation to anger.

Blitzwing tried to recover from his defensive position and switch into an offensive one, but he realised time wasn't on his side. Blades's rocket had been exceptionally hard to shake; the few astroseconds still available left him with a single choice: to improvise. With Slingshot coming in hard and fast, preparing to open fire, there was little else he could do.

As though proving he'd been stripped of time and options, Slingshot unleashed a pair of proximity mortars. Hurling through the air, their course seemed inevitable, unstoppable.

And they closed in.

Frag it! This little glitch has me on the ropes! I don't believe it!

Getting closer.

I'll get him back—oh yeah! I'll get him back!

Closer.

A balanced combination of intuition and battlefield experience told him what to do.

Too close.

Slingshot's accuracy and abruptness had gained him the victory. Out of position and time, Blitzwing could neither pull up quickly enough and retreat into the higher reaches of the troposphere nor outrun the proximity mortars.

Detonations.

Believing—or rather hoping—the armoured flanks of his tank mode would provide him with reasonable protection, he transformed. He also hoped the tank's impressive mass would allow him to fall fast, lest he be snared in the mortar shells optimal blast range and struck ruthlessly by its potent contents.

Explosions.

He fell.

Shrapnel and chemicals lashed at his armoured plates, slicing here, scorching there.

Kept falling.

“Frag it!”

Reverted to robot mode and engaged his foot thrusters, using maximum power.

He flipped and rolled wildly.

Long way down.

Struggled to secure stability during his descent.

Big fall, but he'd be a big mess soon if he didn't correct himself.

>>“Goin' down, huh, 'Train? That makes two of us.”<<

Down.

Down.

Down.

Blitzwing finally gained stability. Then crash-landed in the forest.

Ouch.